


Cross-examination

by downrightpiano



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 14:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14750993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downrightpiano/pseuds/downrightpiano
Summary: In a bid to lessen his sentence, convicted magic user Arthur Kirkland strikes a deal with Prosecutor Alfred Jones.





	Cross-examination

**Author's Note:**

> The premise for this is that Arthur gets reported for magic use (which is illegal), and gets sent to jail. However, Alfred the assigned prosecutor takes a shine to him and they work out a deal to lessen the sentence.
> 
> Note: I have minimal knowledge of legal proceedings outside of Phoenix Wright.

The young prosecutor smiles and taps his pen. “Let me strike you a deal, Mr. Kirkland. You show me something other than that bad attitude of yours, and I might be persuaded. To reconsider your case.”

The defendant purses his lips. “And here I thought you were an upstanding citizen and man of the law, Mr. Jones.” He tips his head to the side. “What makes you think I'll accept your offer?”

Alfred spins the pen in his fingers. “Do I need to remind you that you're the one in jail, Mr. Kirkland? The cards are in my hands. All you've got is a fistful of cold iron bars.”

Kirkland grimaces. “Do you hear yourself speak? You sound like you fell out of some third-rate detective movie.”

Alfred grins lopsidedly. “Nothing wrong with that. But the matter stands. Your position has you at a disadvantage. You either have this offer, or you have nothing.” His right hand fiddles with the pen, spinning it once more before gripping it firmly. He runs his thumb along the warm metal clip, feeling the machine-engraved letters against his skin.

The defendant watches him. His eyes dip, blink, and settle on Alfred’s face. “You present an interesting proposition, Mr. Jones. I may be interested. Out of boredom, you see. Concrete and metal all around doesn't do much for mental stimulation.”

Alfred’s thumb runs over the pen clip once more, before slipping over the cap and smoothly over the barrel. “Good to see you're on board.” He grins and stands. “I've got to run, but don't worry, I'll take care of the details. You'll be seeing me very soon.” He throws a wink over his shoulder as he turns, and leaves.

Very soon turns out to be two weeks later, when the prosecution arranges an in-house interview with the defendant. Two corrections officers deliver Kirkland to the prosecution’s office.

Kirkland watches the door close, leaving him alone in the office with the prosecutor.

Alfred steps out from behind his desk. “Lock the door. Security knows not to bother us.” He leans against the front of his desk, the picture of nonchalance.

Kirkland reaches out and turns the lock. It clicks quietly into place. He approaches the prosecutor, one step at a time, until they stand toe to toe. “Shall we get started with the interview, Mr. Jones?”

“Let me clarify our deal for you.” Alfred leisurely unbuttons the defendant’s prison uniform top. “You do this for me, and I get you a shorter sentence.” He pushes the shirt off Kirkland’s shoulders, and it drops to the floor. “And you will get a shorter sentence, because I’m the best prosecutor there is.”

He can feel Kirkland's breath on his lips, as the other man leans close to whisper, "And how do I know you'll keep your word, Mr. Jones?"

Alfred drags his palms up the man's sides, rumpling the plain undershirt. The edges of his lips twitch into a grin, full of teeth. "Won't know until you try, won't you, Mr. Kirkland?"

“And all this time I’ve been thinking,” Kirkland purrs, “that you were some upright member of society.”

Alfred snorts out a laugh against Kirkland’s collarbone. “Oh don’t you worry, Artie. I’m plenty upright,” and here he snorts again, “all just for you, babe.” He ignores the slap to the back of his head and nips at the skin below.

Kirkland huffs. “Your jokes are terrible.” He smoothes his hand over Alfred’s tie before pulling it off. He kisses Alfred, hot and languid. He tugs Alfred’s shirt out of his slacks and runs his hands over firm abs. Alfred’s belt is unbuckled, the clink of metal loud in Alfred’s ears.

Kirkland unzips Alfred’s pants and reaches in, massaging his cock through his underwear. He runs his nails lightly over the fabric. “I knew the moment I saw you in that courtroom.” He reaches the button on Alfred’s slacks and undoes it, slowly, expertly. “The way you looked at me. The way you walked.” He stretches the elastic on the underwear and pulls down. “The way you sat.” He kneels, eyes never leaving Alfred’s. “The audacity.” His tongue flicks against the head in the briefest of touches. “Your body promised that day to fuck me into oblivion, and I hope you make good on that.” With that, he pressed the flat of his tongue against Alfred’s cock and dragged it up, all the way to the tip, agonizingly slow.

Alfred hisses and his abdominal muscles tremble in an effort to stay upright. “Fuck, just like that.” He buries his fingers in Kirkland’s hair. “The moment I saw you, I knew you were being tried for the wrong thing. That mouth is filthier and more dangerous than any magic you do.” He groans at the sight of that mouth closing around his cock and watches Kirkland take more and more in, until he feels the man’s throat flex around him.

Kirkland sucks, and Alfred wills his legs to not shake. Kirkland’s head bobs once, twice, before he lets go with a sound that would be burned into Alfred’s memory forever. Alfred watches that sinful tongue swirl around the head of his cock before it dipped into the slit. That tongue presses down, and wiggles. Alfred tightens his hand on that blond head. “Fuck! I want you to keep doing that, but I also want to make good on that promise.” Kirkland looks up at him, chest heaving and pupils blown wide.

Alfred drags him up by his shirt and kisses him hard, before ushering him towards the sofa. “Take your clothes off.” He clears his throat. Alfred steps out of his shoes and pulls his pants and underwear off.

Kirkland looks at the sofa as he untied his prison uniform pants. “A bit small for two grown men, don’t you think?” He pulls off his undershirt and steps out of the puddle of fabric that was his pants.

Alfred unbuttons his shirt in record time. “Oh, that’s a pull-out. Here, let me get it out.” He turns the sofa into a bed, also in record time. He whips off his shirt, nearly ripping off the buttons on his cuffs. He presses Kirkland down onto the bed and covers him with his body, licking into his mouth. “God, you look,” he grinds down, “absolutely,” he pulls off the man’s underwear and bites his inner thigh, “ravishing.”

Kirkland kicks his back with a heel. “Get on with it!” He scrapes his nails down Alfred’s back and squeezes his ass.

Alfred lifts those lean legs into the air and nearly drools at the sight. “But I have to inspect the provided evidence. I can’t make a convincing argument if I don’t examine the evidence in detail.” He leers at Kirkland. He leaves Kirkland’s legs hanging in the air as he smoothes his hands all the way from the man’s knees to his ass. “It’s the job of the prosecution to know every part of the evidence.”

He opens a drawer under the coffee table and pulls out a tube of lube. He squirts out a dollop before throwing the tube back into the drawer. Alfred warms up his fingers before rubbing them between Kirkland’s buttocks. He massages, and then presses in.

Kirkland writhes and gasps, “I see you’ve prepared ahead of time.”

Alfred grins and twists his fingers. “I’m a man of the law, sweetheart. Gotta be prepared to cross-examine anytime, anywhere.”

The man supine on the couch manages to bite out, “Your jokes are disgusting, Jones. Try not to damage the reputation of this country’s law enforcement any further-” before he collapses into incoherency.

Alfred presses his fingers hard into that spot and drinks in the sight before him. “Damn, Artie, you should be illegal. Oh wait, you are illegal.”

“Sh-shut up!” Kirkland grinds down onto Alfred’s fingers, thighs shaking.

Alfred lets up the pressure before pressing into the spot again, even harder. He’s rewarded when Kirkland lets out a keening whine and shudders.

Wetness shines at the tip of Kirkland’s flushed cock and Alfred groans before swooping down for a taste. Kirkland’s cock jerks against his tongue as he rubs his fingers hard. Alfred reaches down and tugs at himself, hissing. “You should see yourself, reacting to everything I do.” He closes his mouth over the other man’s cock and swirls his tongue against the underside before sucking gently.

Kirkland arches his back with a filthy moan. “Oh God, yes,” he pants, “That feels so good.”

Alfred leans back to take in the view. “Debauchery really becomes you, Artie. You can make a career out of it. You’d be rich. And famous.”

Kirkland kicks at him with a foot. “Stop dawdling, git!” His chest heaves, flushed with exertion.

Alfred laughs and presses his fingers in one last time before removing his hand completely. He rolls on a condom and slicks himself up, watching the spectacle before him. “Just following procedure, Artie. You know how tedious following procedure can be.” He spreads Kirkland’s buttocks, thumbs pulling at his hole. His cock jumps at the sight and he wholeheartedly agrees.

Kirkland glares at him. “Stop gawking-” His breath stutters and he squeezes the base of his erection.

Alfred has his cock against Kirkland’s entrance, pressed so that the slit was just inside the opening. “You’re in for a long and hard cross-examination, Artie. This is just the tip of the iceberg.” He snickers at Kirkland’s incredulous expression. Alfred watches as his dick slowly presses into the tightness, until the entire cock head was engulfed. “Fuck, look at you taking that in. You’re stretching so nicely.”

Kirkland’s breath leaves him in a punch. Alfred groans as muscles flutter around the head of his cock. He presses in, watching that hole stretch wider and wider the further he goes, until he’s in all the way. He rubs Kirkland’s twitching stomach before pressing down with his hand. “Can you feel how deep I am, Artie? I guess it’s going to take more than a few fingers to loosen you up for questioning. Look at you, corrupting the prosecution. I’m going to cross-examine you until you scream. You won’t be able to testify for anyone else.” He bends down to lick at the man’s throat. “Everyone in and out of jail will know you belong to me, and only me.”

Kirkland lets out a choked breath. “I don’t think the prosecution is pressing hard enough, because the defendant can still think quite clearly and hasn’t confessed yet- ahh!” He cries out as Alfred gives a firm thrust.

Alfred sets a deep, rolling pace with his hips. They kiss, open and wet. Alfred pinches and pulls at perked nipples and licks the sounds from Kirkland’s mouth. Two strong legs wrap around his waist and Kirkland drags his blunt nails down his back. Alfred jerks forward in response and Kirkland lets out a loud moan. It’s the lewdest thing he’s ever heard and Alfred loses his rhythm. His hips stutter and the deep rolling motion becomes sharp jolts.

Kirkland clenches around him and Alfred nearly shouts. Everything, from Kirkland pressing up to take him deeper and the emphatic litany of ‘yes’ and ‘harder’ to fingers pulling at his hair, sets fire to Alfred’s senses. He only has a short moment to be thankful for good soundproofing before it all devolves into frantic movements and enthusiastically unintelligible sounds.

Kirkland comes with a wail, his entire body seizing and shaking, legs clamped around Alfred’s waist and walls clamping down around his cock. Alfred plows into that tightness, again and again, unable to stop. He growls into Kirkland’s mouth as he releases into his body. Overwhelmed by sensations, Alfred is dimly aware of himself, grinding uncontrollably into Kirkland’s still-twitching ass. Riding out his orgasm with one last irresistible deep press of his hips, he sprawls onto the mattress next to the other man.

“Fuck,” Kirkland sighs, “We need to do that again.”

Alfred groans in agreement. “Yeah, we do. Give me a few months, babe. I’ll get you out of there.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prosecutor Jones manages to not only shorten Arthur's sentence (because he's such an awesome lawyer), he changes his sentence from jail time to house arrest with supervision from a qualified member of the law. AKA Alfred.
> 
> And then they end up having wild sex all over Alfred's house.


End file.
